The Grim Legion

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The Grim Legion Page 40

by Kindred Ult


  If Demenn noticed the conflicting thoughts inside Varus, he pretended not to notice as he gave a self-deprecating smile. "Unfortunately, I am no different from the rest. The only difference is that I kill and regret it, while they kill and revel in it. The killing is still accomplished in the end, and the emotion, reasoning, and motivation behind it is entirely irrelevant when you consider the fact that a human soul is still damned."

  "Wow, you must spend a lot of time thinking about things like this." Varus looked bewildered at all of the thoughts whirling around his head.

  "Yes, a long time." Demenn's eyes unfocused for a moment, but came back when Varus spoke.

  "Alright Demenn, I have one last question to ask you. How do we achieve the Other form."

  "Ah, that is a rather hard question." Demenn paused. "But one worth answering. You see, up until very recently, I believed that it was something that simply happened once first class was gained, which, by the way, is not really so much a level to be gained as a measure of strength. It turns out that it has nothing to do with first class, but instead comes from killing a Chiroptera and devouring its heart. Although for some reason, I achieved it before then."

  "So… there must be some way that you achieved it without being first class or fighting a…" He trailed off.

  "Chiroptera," Demenn supplied. "Yes, but I am not quite sure what happened. I was very angry at the time, and something just clicked inside of me. I was fighting the werewolf who killed my family and I could only think of that. Afterwards, though, there just seemed to be a switch in my mind that I could use to turn the power on and off at will."

  "So, do you think that I could do the same if in a similar situation?" Varus was already thinking of the possibilities, and of how it could happen.

  "Probably, I know that N'colto would really like that, since he did make the treaty just to find out if it was possible, but I can't imagine how you could make that—Oh no." Demenn tried to jump back when a large black hand smashed into his chest and thrust him back into the wall. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, the wall was very firm, as it held when he slammed into it. He stared into the gleaming red eyes of Varus, who was in his Other form, and his horns shot out of the side of his head and curved only once to become like spears in front of his head. The grip on his chest tightened as Varus growled.

  Inside his head, Varus felt like a veil of blackness had settled over him. He had thought of his family members, but he barely remembered his parents, and only his sister, who he had spent so many years trying to protect, could he really consider family. And he could not help but look into the eyes of the vampire who had murdered the only person he truly loved. Before he even knew what was happening, hate had filled his vision. Hate that was directed solely at Demenn. Then he was grabbing Demenn, slamming him into the wall, and slowly squeezing the life out of him.

  Any remorse he felt was completely and utterly diluted by his complete rage and hatred. She had meant everything to him, and now she was gone, by a whim from this vampire, who had then had the gall to bring him back from the gave to fight alongside him and pretend to save his life. It was sick! He was disgusted at how pathetic he had been—like a dog happy to get the scraps from the table of a man who was eating its family. He had even thought that he was friends with this vampire, although now he saw how the bastard was simply manipulating him in every way possible just for his own sick amusement. He had been treating him like a marionette connected to his lithe fingers with string, but now it was he who was getting the life squeezed from him.

  Varus smiled with disturbingly sharp teeth, and his elongated canines glistened in the moonlight. "Any last words, demon?" Had he been thinking, he would have been shocked at his voice.

  "About two more seconds." Was the confusing reply.

  "What?" Varus started, before he screamed in pain as his back broke apart and wings burst from it. He was only distracted for a few moments, but when he looked back up, Demenn had grown until they were the same height, and his own hand grabbed onto Varus's. In another moment, Demenn's knee slammed into his stomach, and Varus doubled over before being slammed to the ground. In moments, Varus found himself on the wrong side of the position he had Demenn in.

  Demenn's eyes squeezed into slits, and his left hand was on Varus's throat while his right lifted up to deliver the final blow. Even in his strange state, though, Varus could tell that something was different about Demenn's right hand. It was beginning to turn red, as was the rest of his body. Little nubs of bone began protruding from various parts of him, and when Varus looked into his eyes, he saw not only hate, but a malevolence that was so powerful it shocked him out of his veiled state of mind. He was still in his Other form, but he now saw things clearly, and he was alarmed at his predicament. Thankfully, though, Demenn's hand was still suspended in the air, and it had not gone down to end him.

  "Demenn?" He could not tell what was wrong with him.

  Demenn opened his fist slowly, before bringing his hand to his head and standing up. Varus did the same, and he saw that Demenn was now completely red and that the bones were beginning to come out, suddenly, though, Demenn flung his head back and screamed.

  "Get out of my head!" His wings came back into his back, while the small parts of bones shot out until they looked like blades going down his back and to his tail. His elbows and knees looked similar, and he began thrashing around, screaming incoherently. When Varus saw his eyes, they glowed a bright, evil yellow.

  "Graaa!" Demenn yelled, and in his flailing, his hand smashed into the wall Varus had recently dented with his body. The wall blew away from his touch, and the pieces fell down to the ground below. Wind flowed into the hallway as Demenn fell to his knees with his hands around his head. Gradually, though, his thrashings ceased, and eventually darkness surrounded him. It enveloped him like a glove, then broke apart, and all that was left was Demenn, who stayed on his knees. When he saw this, Varus sighed in relief and morphed back himself. He was somewhat pleased to note that he felt the switch Demenn was speaking about. Then he felt ashamed for thinking of himself when Demenn was still crouched on the floor. He went up and placed a hand on Demenn's shoulder.

  To his surprise, Demenn jerked his head around and looked Varus in the eyes. What Varus saw there scared him more than anything he had ever seen before in either of his lives. For the first time, he saw complete fear in Demenn's eyes. A terror so complete that it even fed off of him and into Varus, who looked around worriedly.

  "Is he here?" Varus heard Demenn say, barely louder than a whisper.

  "Who?" Varus was extremely on edge, and looked around anxiously.

  Seeing Varus's confusion, Demenn closed his eyes and slowly reopened them. When he looked back at Varus, his eyes were calm like they always were, and his voice was steady and flat. "No one. Please refrain from attacking me Varus. I realize what I did to you and your sister, but what is going on now is far more important than your vengeance. I am sorry, but there is nothing more that can be done."

  Varus did not know why he had lost control and attacked Demenn in the first place, so he felt ashamed listening to Demenn speak to him so. He still felt that Demenn was avoiding what had just happened, which was rather hard with the hole in the wall behind him. "What was that?"

  Demenn looked behind him and a smile flashed across his face. "It seems that I can no longer transform into my Other form."

  "Why?" While feeling mortified at Demenn's loss of power, Varus also felt something boiling inside him that felt like…happiness, or superiority.

  "Because every time I try to, that happens, and each time it gets harder to change back." For a moment, Demenn seemed afraid again, but he overcame it swiftly.

  "Why?" Varus also wondered if this was something that only applied to those who achieved the Other form Demenn's way. That worried him.

  "I do not know." Demenn lied.

  Varus realized that he would get nothing out more out of this very strange conversation, so he smiled and clapped Demenn on
the shoulder. "Well, watch yourself, you almost killed me there."

  He succeeded in getting a genuine smile out of Demenn. "Yea, likewise."

  With a friendly nod, Varus went about his way, but inside he was confused on so many levels. Most of all, though, he wondered just how he saw Demenn. Half of him thought that he was a good man, but the other half of him hated him so intensely for what he had done. He had to wonder just what he would do if he were ever really given the chance to kill Demenn. That was what he had come here to do, and he had sworn to his sister that he would kill Demenn for her, but now his thoughts were completely convoluted.

  He did not know how, but being in the same squad with Demenn, meeting his companions, fighting with them, and losing them had changed him in a way he could not comprehend. He actually felt the loss of his squad members in a way he had never felt for those around him. When he had been in the army, none of them had cared about him, and he had cared even less for them. In fact, he had only felt marginally bad about his side losing wars, since it meant that he would be paid less. He was only too glad to walk away from them with his sister in tow. When he had been a bandit, he had cared about his fellow bandits so little that he barely noticed when they died, save that he knew it would be hard to find a replacement. In all of that time, he had cared only for his sister, but now that she was dead, as was he, he was finding that he was actually caring for the wellbeing of others.

  He had a strange pressure in the back of his throat whenever he thought of Lidian, who had been so kind to him when he first became a vampire and had allowed him to be equal with her throughout the time they had been together. And the feeling only became stronger when he thought of Raphael and Leon, who had accepted him so quickly, had laughed and joked beside him, and had battled back-to-back with him against a horde of enemies.

  Now they were dead, and for the third time in his life, Varus felt sorrow for the passing of another. He could not say that he enjoyed the feeling at all.

  Demenn, for his part, was not feeling well either. The fact that he still could not turn to his Other form signaled several problems. The first was that it meant Lucifer was still interested in him, and that alone was enough to disturb him and make him uneasy, but that was added to the fact that he could no longer compete with others, like the captains, for instance, and also the werewolves. It was true that some vampires who were not in their Other form could kill first class werewolves, but those were few. Usually, they went in groups, with only a few, like Demenn, attempting to kill one on their own. Demenn had thought that he could kill one before he had truly battled one, but now he was not so sure. It was true that he was stronger and faster than he had been when a second class, but that still did not mean he could kill one, let alone survive in a battlefield where there could be dozens.

  Still, the only other option he had was to surrender himself to Lucifer, who had apparently taken to trying to overrun him by force instead of persuasion now, or trying to kill a Chiroptera and somehow hoping he could get his power back normally. Neither of those options appealed to him at all. Thinking about N'colto and the Chiroptera did make him remember that Varus had found a way to achieve his Other form without killing one of them, and he also knew that the news would make N'colto very happy.

  As he walked back out of the castle and down the streets towards his home, he wondered how Varus had achieved such a thing. It was true that his circumstances were relatively similar to Demenn's, but Demenn was reasonably sure that if emotions were the key to going into the Other form, many vampires would have achieved it as well. There were only two other options that he could think of to explain it. One was that Varus had Demenn's blood in him, and because of that he was somehow predisposed to gaining his Other form. He liked that idea, but it did not seem very plausible to him, and testing it would be very hard. The second idea, though, was very disturbing, and Demenn did not even want to think about it at the moment.

  And so, instead of thinking about it, he decided to go home and get some much-needed rest and nourishment. On the way there, he stopped by the marketplace and purchased several pints of blood and some leather skeins, which he promptly filled with the blood. Not caring for what a sight he made, he sipped from the skeins as he walked home, relishing in their taste and texture while also feeling his vitality returning. His steps unconsciously quickened, his thoughts seemed to slow, and he felt a strength return that he had not known had left him. It was not power or muscular strength, but it felt more like life.

  Soon he was home, which was a moderately sized, nondescript house that he had been renting, but that now, with his new salary, would more than likely be able to buy soon enough. When he opened the door to go in, he was at first startled to see a woman standing in the middle of his hallway, but then he remembered that she had been given to him earlier that night. She was cleaning something when he came in, but stopped what she was doing for a moment to look at him when he entered. He could tell that she was anxious, so he smiled.

  "Hello again…" It was at that moment he realized that he had never learned her name. "Uh, what is your name, after all?"

  Despite herself, she smiled slightly. "My name is Amy."

  "Ah, well hello again, Amy. I hope that you have not been working too hard in my absence." Demenn smiled while looking around. His residence had never been especially dirty, since Preatias had taught him to always be in order, but now it looked cleaner than it had in a long time.

  She chuckled self-consciously. "Well, I guess I've always had a penchant for cleaning. My mother said that I was born to be a maid, since I couldn't stand it unless something was as clean as possible. Still," her voice caught and softened. "I don't think that she ever saw me being here…" Her voice trailed off and she looked to the side while bringing her hands to her face. She turned away from him to hide her tears, but he could still hear her sobs with his ears, and his enhanced eyes could see her body shaking.

  She felt like a fool. She had thought that she would be able to deal with being a slave, since life had never been very kind to her. She had expected to be treated poorly, and to persevere all of the torture until she died, but now, at the first hint of kindness, she was breaking down. Oh, how her mother would despise her if she saw her like this. How all of them would hate her if they could see how she had failed at everything. 'And now I'm going to spend the rest of my life with these demons.'

  She was so caught up in her thoughts that she failed to notice Demenn until his hand was on her shoulder. She turned around, expecting to be struck or worse for having been so completely useless, but no blows were forthcoming. Instead he only looked at her with pity, and when she stared into his eyes, he almost seemed human.

  "I am sorry for the circumstances that have made me your master, but soon there will be a very large battle, and it is very probable that I will die in it. Whether that happens or not, I will make sure that you will be released after the battle is fought. I promise you that." Without waiting for a reply, he walked past her, around a corner, up the stairway, and into his room, closing the door behind him.

  For a moment she stood, uncomprehending, then the tears came back to her face and she fell to her knees on the ground, not knowing what to think. She could not tell if what he had said was the truth, or if he was simply toying with her in an attempt to completely break her spirit. Her thoughts went back and forth between hoping and dreaming about her future to clamping those thoughts and visions down with the cold realism that no vampire would actually do that. Eventually, with the knowledge that she would probably have to awaken earlier than her master the next night, she retired to another room he had given her before he left for the council. When she finally fell asleep she dreamed of her family, and wept even more in her sleep.

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  Demenn was awakened as the moonlight through his window proscribed the time to be three hours until the sun would go down. The artificial night imposed by the spell-made
canopy over the vampires' city was useful, he agreed, but it was also very disorienting. It disrupted one's view of the outside world and sense of night and day, so he did not particularly enjoy it, but he also knew that the only other alternative was to live outside of the city, which was basically death. He wondered what had awakened him, since his sense of time was usually very good. He lay on top of a mattress in his clothes, since vampires have no hygiene, and as such they can wear the same clothes for a very long time, for a few moments of time before slowly standing beside it and stretching. He was about to decide to see how… Amy was her name, was doing when he heard her scream come from the front door.

  He grabbed his sword from beside his bed and burst through his door, ran down the stairs, turned one corner, and stopped when he came in sight of the door. It was open, and in front of it, Amy was lying on the ground with her hands propping her torso up. She was shaking, and he could easily understand why. A demon stood in the doorway, well, more accurately, bent over until its head and upper torso could be seen through it. Unlike Amy, though, Demenn could tell that this was a vampire in his…or her, Other form, so he smiled and walked forward.

  "Welcome, I am sorry for my slave's fright, but you do seem to have an unnecessarily frightening form at the moment. I am Demenn, and this is my home. Do you have some business with me?"

 

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